


An Affair Like No Other

by Essenity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Desire, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, Homosexuality, Humor, Infidelity, Love/Hate, M/M, Requited Love, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 00:26:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1724426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Essenity/pseuds/Essenity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story about wild desires stringed with real love. A story about selfishness and (lack of) self control. A story about choice and giving in to love. A story about choosing to believe in denial.</p><p>Malfoys pride themselves on many things, fidelity is one but Draco keeps failing to uphold Astoria's honour and keep his you-know-what out of Potter's mouth. He knows it's wrong, to cheat and lie and bring home filth from another bed but there's the fantasy of a life together outside of the shadow of their marriages.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Affair Like No Other

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my LJ but now I'm posting this here over a year after it was written which makes the lyrics almost six years old.

He is a  _Malfoy_  for fuck's sake, although he's not sure he can proudly call himself that anymore. Malfoys prided themselves on many things. Pureblood lineage, beautiful - no,  _perfect_  - features, self control, family honour, love,  _fidelity._

He's managed almost everything Malfoys are taught to be.  _Almost_. Because Draco has to grit his teeth in guilt whenever he thinks of his beautiful wife, Astoria (whom he  _loves_ ) but has left alone at the Manor so he can get fucked by Potter (of all people!).

And how he loves being fucked by Potter, in that dimly lit room - a closet really by Malfoy standards - that housed nothing but a large four poster bed (because no Malfoy would be caught dead in anything less grand. Except it wouldn't matter now considering before Draco, no Malfoy would be caught indulging in filthy, disgusting, extramarital affairs). Draco was moaning in pleasure, his fingers digging into the black silk sheets, his skin shinning with sweat and flushed with shameless arousal. He forced his eyes open and locked them on the ceiling carved with intrinsic patterns as he shudders and orgasms forcefully, his arse clenching uncontrollably around Potter's cock. This hideously small and claustrophobic room was the only room at Grimmauld Place in which Draco allowed himself to partake in any kind of infidelity. His pathetic lack of self control made his loins ache for Potter but he couldn't bring himself to fuck in any comfortable room. That pleasure was only reserved for his wife, whom he  _loves_. Pity he has to keep reminding himself through gritted teeth, tense jaw and a clenched arse Potter likes to slam into.

Potter's slamming of his cock deep into Draco is always harsh and painful after Draco's had an orgasm. But Draco likes it that way and he briefly wonders if this is the same pain Astoria feels. Draco knows how Potter likes to slam his cock into Draco's arse when it's clenched unbelievably tight. It hurts, probably a bit too much but the shouts that fall from Potter's mouth is so  _sexy_ it brings blood to Draco's cock again. Draco keeps his arse clenched as tightly as possible, as if trying to expel the thick length that was bringing him so much pleasure. The sick fuck that is Harry Potter hisses his approval and fucks Draco even harder into the bed.

When Potter gives a shout and slams himself to the hilt, Draco feels the cock in his arse pump and twitch as it shoots hot, gushing liquid, burning Draco's insides. Draco sickeningly loves this and he wonders if Astoria experiences that same satisfaction he is engulfed in now when Draco orgasms in her.

Potter slumps over him and they sink deeper into the soft mattress, their breaths heavy, their heartbeats thundering and their souls blanketed with a thick layer of guilt. Well, at least Draco's, he's not sure if Potter has a soul, considering he takes every possible chance to seduce a married man into his bed.

As if he doesn't need a break, Harry's hand slides down between their bodies and grabs Draco's half hard, very sensitive cock. Draco recoils and hisses but Harry just shushes him with his mouth and his tongue, shoving it so far deep into Draco's mouth, he's sure he might just swallow it. Draco's whole body is tingling, his nerves are on fire and the tip of his cock screams from over stimulation but his goddamn balls ache for another release.

"Fuck you Potter!" Draco snarls when Harry finally slides down his body. His hand on Draco's cock continues its up-down slide, slowly coaxing another erection. Harry ignores him. "This has to stop!" Draco is livid with himself. His beautiful wife ( _whom he loves_ ) doesn't deserve a filthy, cheating, lying scum for a husband. Even if that filthy, cheating, lying scum is Draco Malfoy.

Harry "Mmmhm" and then swallows Draco's cock hungrily, sucking on it greedily.

Draco lets out a howl at first, thrashing and writhing in pleasure from the warm deep-throating Potter gifts him and also in pain from the tightening around his still sensitive head.

Draco gasps and growls and in between, he snarls abuse at Harry, throwing in morals. "This can't go on. This has to stop. I'm  _married_  for Merlin's sake. I'm married to a beautiful wife and I  _love_  her and this is wrong and I'm  _married._ " But his babbles and pleas for Harry to stop using that amazing tongue in that back arching, pleasure screaming way turns into pleading for Harry to just let Draco orgasm.

When Draco regains consciousness, Harry's fingers are inside him, massaging that damned spot that always makes Draco sigh. "No! Stop! I've had enough, I can't possibly get it up again!"

"I can." Potter says and Draco curses his lack of self control and he prays to any deity willing to listen. He can't wait to get old and senile - perhaps by then his libido for Harry Potter will have disappeared.

When Potter is finally sated, with a satisfied smirk on his face, Draco is beyond exhausted, lying under Potter's black silk sheets with a silly smile on his face. "This has to stop, I'm  _married_." He might have no self control when it comes to being fucked by Potter, but he is still a Malfoy.

"Stop?" Potter blinks innocently as he pulls on his robes. "Like how we  _have to_ stop every single time in the past? Until the next time you come crawling back to me, begging me to fuck you through the floor?"

Draco scowls and drags himself out of bed so he could get dressed. "Malfoys do not crawl and I certainly  _do not beg._ I'm serious, Potter. This stops right now!" Draco stomps his foot down because he's beyond frustrated "I hate you!"

Harry just smirks at the childish behaviour Malfoy only displays when he's at a loss for words and trapped in a corner by Harry Potter. "Your cock loves me. And so does your wife."

"What?" Draco's face pales; he feels positively sick.

"Your wife invited me over for tea." Harry says delightedly. "See you tomorrow! I'm dying to fuck you in your guest room." Draco is mortified. "I'm just kidding. I doubt your wife would appreciate having to clean up the mess."

Draco manages to scoff. His wife? Cleaning? She is Mrs Malfoy, for fuck's sake. "You  _do_ know that I have house elves." Draco sneers and disapparates.

He stops by a jeweller and picks up the most elaborate piece of jewellery he could see with a price so high, it made Draco ill when he forked over the thousands of galleons.

Astoria was asleep by the time he returned to the Manor but before he walked into their master bedroom, he scrubbed himself clean. He still has the decency to wash off the remnants of sex with another man no matter how exhausted he was. He might have failed with fidelity but Merlin help him the day he taints his beautiful wife (whom he loves) with filth from another bed.

 

 

* * *

 

"Oh Draco, sweetheart! You shouldn't have!" Astoria's squeals pull Draco out of slumber and out of that damned dream that was giving him such a painful erection. Astoria climbs onto Draco and kisses him passionately on the mouth. "You don't need to be showering me with gifts!" Draco smiles stupidly at his wife, her long brown hair framing her perfect face with big eyes shinning with love and cheekbones all Malfoys would be proud of. He married well.

"Well, I want to because I love you."

Astoria kisses him on his chest and slides down his stomach. "Oh?" His hard cock had brushed up against her bare bottom. Draco groaned, her smooth, soft buttocks felt so good rubbing against his erection. "Good morning to you too." And Astoria disappears from Malfoy's immediate line of sight and suddenly her mouth swallows him.

Draco moans and buries his hands in his wife's hair, pushing her head down, begging her to suck harder. She always gives good head. When her head disappears and the sucking stops, Draco groans. "Astoria..."

"Shhh," Astoria climbs back up and sits on Draco's stomach. She is light and small. Petit. Slimmer than Draco which worries him, surely someone with such delicate hips would have trouble producing an heir. He stopped worrying when she impaled herself on his aching cock and made love (not fucking like he does with Potter! Lovemaking! With his wife!) before they dragged their flushed bodies out of bed

 

 

* * *

Oh how he needed to stop his affair with Potter! But if only that was easy! For the past five years, that slimy Halfblood the entire Wizarding world adored had managed to worm his way into everything Draco is involved in (and also slide his cock into Draco's arse). Every damned party, every damned charity event, every damned public outing, every damned job he had that coincided with Aurors.

Oh Draco had drawn the line. He had drawn the damn line many,  _many_  times. Like that time his mother threw the first charity event for Pureblood Children of War (those who's parents were trialled and Kissed and thus innocent children abandoned) and held it at the Malfoy Manor. No fucking way Draco would have let Potter attend. But he did, oh and did he make a grand entrance as the fucking guest of honour. Then he dragged Draco off when no one was looking so he could fuck Draco through the floors of his linen closet - it was his house and he didn't even know there was a linen closet!

Then there was that other time at Draco and Astoria's engagement party. Draco drew the line there, only to have Potter saunter over it as easily as he had conquered the Dark Lord. Astoria had invited Potter along, and asked him to give a speech. The nerve!!! Draco might be the man of the house, but Astoria, she was the woman behind him.

Draco drew the line again at his own wedding. But somehow, Potter still managed to attend with  _his own redhead wife_  on his arm. By then, Draco had given up temporarily. He was going to enjoy getting married to Astoria (whom he loves), but not before he let Potter fuck him ( _one last time_ , Draco swore) in the small gap behind the alter. To his dismay, Potter's sick mind is a kink of its own. He temporarily spelled Draco's arse shut so Draco could feel Potter's cum sloshing inside him while he  _made love_ to his virginal wife (they presented bloodied sheets to their parents the next morning) on their wedding night. The same thing (presenting of virginal proof, that is) would probably have happened if he had married Harry Potter and gifted him his virginity on their wedding night instead of at a bar after hours where he was left to tend to his bleeding arse by himself because he was too fucking embarrassed by his pain to let Potter see. Draco likes to think he was drunk as fuck but the sad truth is... He was sober as anything.

 

 

* * *

 

Draco makes a show of avoiding Potter. He attends strictly  _Pureblood_  aristocratic parties with his beautiful wife (whom he loves) on his arm, he attends charities with the same beautiful wife (whom he loves) on the same arm and he takes the week off work. To his dismay (Draco seems to be always dismayed now that he isn't forced to do Voldemort's bidding and instead forced to orgasm by the cock of Harry Potter), he barely lasts till the end of the week when he is finally spotted and cornered by Potter in the confectionary aisle at the closest Muggle supermarket (Draco figured it would be the last place Potter would look for him).

 

Potter had came up behind him and pulled him into an embrace so tight, Draco thought his chest would collapse. It didn't stop there though and Draco was thankful no one was around to see his knees buck beneath the kiss Potter pressed at the base of his neck. Potter's lips to the skin of his throat felt cold but the kiss that followed was hot and it spread excitement through Draco's body like fire. It was a kiss and a nip to his throat, so sharp and sweet Draco almost sent the shelf of chocolates to the floor. Then Potter had shifted his shirt slightly and blew cold air over his neck and down his back, the wind sent chills into Draco's soul and he knew it was just the calm before the storm when Potter whispered a time in his ear, then let go and disapparated.

 

 

* * *

 

When Draco is in that dark room at Grimmauld Place, his body is in tangles with Potter's. They rip each other's clothes off and Potter sets to work sucking hard to mark Draco's pale, unmarred skin. When Draco looks down at his chest, he hisses and curses at the angry red blotches of broken vessels - a sure sign of his infidelity with Potter. He was going to need a Healer to fix those hickeys and another overly expensive gift before he returned home to his wife (whom he loves).

Harry shoves Draco onto the Bed of Adultery (Draco started calling it that after one year of no self control) and Draco catches a whiff of Astoria's perfume from the scarf Potter had thrown onto the bed. She had wrapped it oh-so-lovingly around his neck this morning. Draco breathes the sweet floral scent in and closes his eyes. It's so sweet, like Astoria but now, Draco thinks its what the scent of sin and lust smells like. So he struggles against Potter's weight in a final feeble attempt to honour his Malfoy fidelity but he knows its useless and so does Potter when his fingers running over Draco's chest dig down, pressing his nails deep into Draco's skin, leaving trails of hot, angry red welts. A warning: Stay still or you're not going to orgasm.

Draco doesn't really remember what happened and he only comes to his senses with a loud "fuck! Astoria!!!" When Potter slams his thick cock into his prostrate and he orgasms with a force so strong, he feels guilty about forgetting to Firecall Astoria about being late for tea.

Exhausted, Draco pants and heaves until his heart slows and his skin isn't as flushed. The pleasure gained from Potter fucking him and the guilt built up from infidelity is tearing him inside; tearing and draining all the energy he has. Sucking it out like how Potter sucks an orgasm from his balls. Draco wonders if this is what it feels to drown in despair and feel broken because he can't make up his damn mind which partner to choose so he gives into his selfish desire. So Draco just lies there on Potter's bed rolling in the after-sex-bliss, staring at the ceiling with intrinsic carvings of deities and magical creatures one might find in Heaven. It is never cleaned; always covered with dust and spiderwebs. He scowls, the very least Potter could do was cast a dust repelling spell.

Potter pulls away and gets off the bed slowly, his fingers slides so slowly off Draco's skin, Draco almost cries at the impending loss. When Potter's touch finally disappeared, Draco can't help but close his eyes for a moment and try to drown in the memory of Potter's grasp.

"I'm sure your wife appreciates it but I would rather you not think of someone else while I'm fucking you into next Friday." Potter says with a smirk.

Draco watches Potter walk around the room, picking up garments of discarded clothes. He watches the muscles on Potter's toned body tense and flex with each movement. He watches Potter's spine curve and straighten as he pulls his shirt back on. He just watches when Potter runs his hands through his hair to shake out the just-fucked-Draco-Malfoy-through-my-bed look. He just watches because tonight, he's going to have to make love to his wife and her body is different to Potter's. It's soft and smooth, untouched by scars and wounds. Her limbs move fluidly along with her graceful body; each movement careful and planned, just like how a lady should act. She is unlike Potter, who moves with passion and spontaneity like how he makes all his decisions. Like his decision to fuck Draco Malfoy into insanity.

Draco tries to sit up but his muscle scream in protest. "Fuck, Potter," he moans. "This is the last time!"

Draco moans and grabs at his chest because his breath catches and his heart aches for Astoria and Harry and himself. He wants them both, he can't choose between two beauties, two loves, two desires. His selfishness is draining him; it's drowning him. And he loves every second of it so all he does is roll his head back and fix his eyes on Heaven above to offer a silent prayer for forgiveness. For his greed for two lovers; for his lust fueled desire; for the wrath boiling at the pit of his stomach towards his groin and inability to keep his cock in his pants (or up Astoria's skirt); for the gluttony every time he gulps hungrily when Potter shoves his cock down his throat and spills out the bitter taste of lovemaking; for the sloth of failing to do what he, as a Malfoy is expected to do (be faithful to the wife he loves); for the envy he feels towards the love and unnecessary infidelity between his own parents; and for the pride he couldn't set aside to ask for help or stop this affair because he likes to give in to his selfish desires. Oh Merlin, he's collected them all, perhaps it's possible to forgive one sin, but all seven?

  
"Whatever," Potter stops and leans over. He kisses Draco on the forehead then the nose, he skips Draco's mouth to suck gently at Draco's neck before finally  _\- finally_  - Draco's lips. His breath is sweet from the wine they indulged in before Potter pulled Draco into their room. The way he exhales against Draco's face after each kiss is tantalizing to Draco's skin and lights up his nerves because it feels like maybe,  _just maybe_  Potter might push him down and fuck him through the bed once more before Draco goes home to his wife (whom he loves).

Draco's cock twitches. "You're killing me, you know?"

"I know." Potter just pulls the rest of his clothes back on and dumps Draco's on the bed. As Draco dresses himself, he wonders perhaps Potter is a serial killer. A murderer who lures his prey into his Bed of Adultery and drowns them in desire and black silk sheets that rustle with every thrust; fucking Draco mad, sucking his soul out from his dick and leaving him panting and cursing in frustration because the heartache is so strong it might just stop beating. Nothing will be left except the cries of ecstasy etched into the walls of this claustrophobic room and proof of passion soaked into the filthy sheets of Potter's bed. Draco is pleased with his willpower - the only one he's got with Potter - to keep the fucking with Potter out of his own Manor, far away from the wife he loves.

 

 

* * *

 

When Potter told him one day in the distant past, "I'm getting married, Draco. To Ginny." Draco sagged with relief. If he didn't have the self control to keep his cock out of Potter's mouth and uphold Astoria's honour, perhaps Potter would have the self control to keep his cock out of Draco's arse and save Ginny from living the fate of being the wife of a filthy, lying, adulterous husband.

As it had turned out, Draco had been wrong and he found out right after Potter told him of his upcoming marriage when Potter said, "don't worry, we won't have to find another room. Ginny and I will live in a modest flat in the middle of the CBD."

They were addicted. So Draco sometimes prayed the Ministry would pass a law just for Draco Malfoy - illegalising Harry Potter just like the Muggle drugs that lined the filthy bars downtown. Although, that probably wouldn't have been very successful considering the increasing number of Muggle drug use in the youth of the Wizarding world the  _Daily Prophet_  keeps printing about.

So they could only tangle their limbs together in the shadows of their marriages, getting high on the fake drugs called lust, desire and greed. Perhaps one day, they will come to believe whatever the fuck they have is actually love instead of that false love they keep telling themselves. False love is always filled with promises. Promises of togetherness, promises of forever, promises of always, promises of divorce. Always making promises of "together forever" they knew they wouldn't keep but they just keep spinning them and spinning them until they are also trapped in a web of promises, eager to pleasure each other's fantasies.

It's a fantasy, Draco knows. A world created in their minds where the two of them are together with no wives and no guilt. It'll always be the beginning of spring in that world; just warm enough to wear seductive robes but just cold enough to hold hands and cuddle outside. Flowers will always be in bloom and they will make love under the rising sun to the sound of chirping birds.

Because there is that promise they can't let go of. The promise of a life together outside of the shadows of their marriages.

 

 

Your lips to my neck is like an aim;  
Brushing my shirt, preparing a destruction  
Like a spreading wind.

Your kiss to my neck is like a bullet;  
Grazing my skin, creating sensation  
Like a burning fire.

The red of your kisses smears like blood  
Claiming the white innocence, marking for death  
Like a turning season. Like a dying fire.

The perfume lingers, a sweet scent of sin and lust  
Your fingers dance across my heart,  
Nails like blades; skimming a warning of violence

You're leaving me in a pool of despair  
Letting me gasp at the heavens  
Leaving me to drown in my selfish desire

Your hold disappears, only the memory remains  
My eyes can only follow the movement of your body  
You're already leaving me to drown in my selfish desire

Your tantalizing breath sends my heart beating at a desperate rhythm,  
Forcing my breath to catch, forcing me to whisper a silent prayer  
To the Gods of Love to forgive me for my selfish desire

You're a murderer of the night  
A cruel killer between the sheets  
Using your body to destroy  
Sucking your victims soulless  
Leaving them without a pulse  
Forcing them to hold onto a memory  
Filled with lust, desire and greed  
Drowning in their own selfish desire

I'm addicted  
We're addicted  
You're addicted  
Addicted to the fake drugs  
Believing in the false love  
Caught in your shadow of lust  
Drowning in your string of promises  
Eager to pleasure the fantasies of a killer

Your lips: like an aim preparing for destruction [like a spreading wind]  
Your fingers: dance across my neck [with nails like blades]  
Your kiss: like a bullet creating sensation [like a burning fire]  
Your fingers: dance across my lips [with nails like blades]

The perfume: a sweet scent of sin and lust

Your fingers: dance across my ears [with nails like blades]  
Your breath: like a drug, handcuffing victims to their lust  
Your fingers: dance across my heart [with nails like blades]  
Drowning me in my selfish desire  
Drowning us in our selfish desire  
Drowning you in our ecstatic frenzy

You're a warning of destruction  
The violence of spreading wind and burning fire  
Nothing like the birth of a new season  
You're not like dying fire

You're a warning of death  
Leaving paths of dread and despair  
Forcing a whisper of a silent prayer  
To forgive a young, selfish desire

 


End file.
